The current scene is one of a raucous party in a hip Uptown nightclub. Quick cuts and the omnipresent industrial-sound strains of the band ‘Razorkiss’ identify the whole setting as that of a music video. A figure clad in a mirrored silver Deathsuit winds through the crowd of dancers like a ghost, invisible to their eyes and passing through their writhing limbs. PARALLAX moves with the confidence of a being in his native environment, eyes alert and his head scanning the scene for signs of his suspect. Around him the music video continues on, into a succession of quick cuts and short-attention-span-pleasing imagery. Even as the close-up of the band’s lead singer towers high above him the ebon remains on alert. To a viewer at home, nothing is out of the ordinary.
The channel is switched and now Parallax stands in the middle of a scene of ‘Meny, Class of 902,’ a drama about hip post-teen adolescents going through operative training. ROCKO, the show’s token Stormer character, is sulking on a campus stairwell, his current crisis attended to by SARAH, the bookish and sensitive Death Squad trainee. Parallax pauses to eavesdrop on their conversation.
Don’t get so hung up on this. They didn’t know about your misaligned gene-sequencing defects.
If’s nof fair. I’m nof a big dumb washouf wike fhey say. I can be juf as smarf as any uffer Sfformer…
The ebon leaves just before they cut to a melodramatic closeup on the stormer’s “crying on the inside” acting expression.
This time the operative finds himself inside a pornographic tv commercial. The experience is short-lived as the signal is unexpectedly cut off by the pirates of the airwaves, Channel Resistance. LISA FODEN, DarkNight’s perky news hostess, is standing in front of some subversive footage and wastes no time getting her message across.
Heya out there in TV Land! It’s LF bringing you the LD on what’s new with DN! A VIP CK was DOA thanks to TNT, no LAD, sadly, he’s SOL—
With a wave of Parallax’s hand the signal is cut off and the more wholesome programming is returned to its proper timeslot.
…Oooh, that’s right. All this week on the Alien Sex Channel: ‘Explore the Possibilities’…
Now the scene is that of a female NEWS ANCHOR seated behind her desk reading the important events of the day. The silver coated ebon comes to a complete halt, his posture rigid as he scans the framed image for signs of his prey.
…Authorities behind the shooting are still investigating the motives behind this would-be destroyer of public television.
Parallax’s attention is drawn to the station identification logo on the bottom right of the frame. Behind it lurks a semi-transparent creature composed of many tendrils, each branching off beyond the frame and into neighboring channels. He moves in for the kill. With a loud crashing sound the entire station is disconnected and the scene immediately cuts to black.
A single desk resides in the center of an immense black room. Light from a tabletop lamp spills over a featureless black humanoid seated in a wooden chair facing his captor. Parallax stands upright leaning over the desk just slightly. Cigarette smoke hovers overhead even though neither figure appears to enjoy the habit.
Unknown subversive Silence, I presume?
Yeah… And who are you, the silver channel surfer?
Operative Parallax, Station Analysis. I have a warrant for your termination.
I saw you in that interview. You looked good.
Let’s stay focused on the present. This termination warrant may be rendered null and void should you agree to cooperate with Station Analysis in this investigation—
The ebon is cut off by a sharp laugh from the subversive.
Like hell! Lemme tell you something, Mister ‘Tee-Vee Guru’. What’s the fundamental rule of the Universe? Perception is Belief. That which a person can perceive with their senses they will trust as truth, even though they know better. They can tell people that the sky ain’t full of crap and the food ain’t full of piss and that they really do care about how poor people live their lives, but people can see the truth with their own eyes. So what do they do? They want me to go and fake those images and make people gullible. That's’ bullshit—
There’s no way anyone could alter an image that completely and still make it believable.
Scan me. Do a scan on me and see for yourself.
Grudgingly the ebon leans further across the desk and places the palm of his hand over the dark figure’s mouth. Monochromatic silver eyes go wide in shock and he jerks back, placing the desk securely between himself and the captive. In the darkness behind Silence a wall of television monitors blinks to life. They contain six different news stations, five gunbattles, three soap operas, two pornographic exhibitions and a Shaktarian religious ceremony. The female news anchor in the previous scene is placed in the center of the monitor banks, and although her face is the same her voice is much different, and very familiar.
Howdy ho, viewerinos! Lisa Foden here with a Channel Resistance exclusive. Parallax, pusher of the oppressor’s party line is about to be ambushed inside his own apartment! We’re going live to the Execution Squad of the People stationed right outside his door.
The screen cuts to a handheld camera shot of three heavily armored thugs with immense high-powered rifles. One gives a thumbs up to the camera as they’re checking their weapons and setting up the attack.
Is… is this real?!
Seeing is believing, ain’t it?
Our boys are modeling the new 12mm “Lawmower” assault rifle, available at all fashionable black markets near you. Oh, wait. Reports say that Parallax is too busy jerking off inside his TV set to even know what’s hitting him! Well, if you’re watching Parallax, it sucks to be you!
At just that moment the indistinct shape of Silence begins to deteriorate and fade out, much like a badly recorded tape image being rubbed out. Yet still he has enough time to give a parting line.
Time to go. Oh hey, good luck with those killers. I wouldn’t count on Flux if I were you…
Before the ebon has time to react the entire room erupts in a burst of concentrated EM-Radiation. The blast covers up the escape of the subversive and tears through Parallax, stripping him of his Ebb and sending his likeness screaming through the airwaves back to an equally unpleasant reality.
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